Shadows
by Galene
Summary: they had sworn their love and promised they'd always be together, but things don't always work out the way we want. Now she is a shadow haunting his every moment, but there may be a way for a shadow to become a reality. rxhr
1. Default Chapter

POV is either Ron or Hermione, and generally they alternate.

Shadows 

Prologue

_Ron's POV_

It's fall once again, the leaves are slowly changing colour, and children are heading back to school. You loved the fall, the return to classes and your books. At least that's what you used to say, but I know you liked the fall for other reasons as well. 

You know 'mione, I liked the fall too. The return to Hogwarts, and the hours that we could spend alone, I didn't even mind the classes, or the homework. After all  the more homework, the more time you spent helping me, talking to me, sparring with me, and the more time I could spend in that eternal balance between pain and bliss. It hurt; did I ever tell you that? And I didn't know why. I was pretty stupid back then, ok, not stupid because I know you'd throw a fit if you heard me belittling myself again, but you have to admit that I was a dense, jealous, scared little fool. Living with all that pain, and putting you through it too…

I should have just told you how you drove me to distraction, wondering how you felt, and then trying to control the burning fire of jealousy that raged through my body whenever you mentioned Krum. There were so many times I thought that I would loose control, thought that I would just snap and in an instant take you in my arms and just kiss you senseless…

_"It's just a letter" _

_"You like him don't you?" _

_"I don't have to answer that, besides why do you care?"_

_"Just because I do…"_

If only I'd told you sooner, if only…there was so much time we wasted.

There are so many things that I wish I'd done differently, but it doesn't matter now…

Everything is different, everything.

_I wish you were here with me… _

He woke early after a restless night, his red hair tousled, pieces falling into his lost blue eyes. I can't stand seeing him this way, the sallow colour of his skin where the freckles have faded, and the lack of fire in those eyes that used to all but burn with passion.

"Hermione" he breathes, his voice soft and low, a prayer, as he glances at the empty pillowcase where my face used to rest.

I know he's hurting, I can feel the anguish radiating off of him, and I suddenly hate myself.  I hate that I am the reason for his dreams, me, and his inability to push me away to where I belong, me and my inability to force myself away.

I can only watch him now, as he lies still beneath the covers, his breathing the only sound in the stillness of the room, as he holds fast to a memory. He never was any good at just letting things go.

I shift closer, longing to reach out and comfort him, as the muffled sound of his sobs reaches my ears.

_Ron_

He used to be so strong, so fearless.

It's hard to believe that this man before me is the same person as the one in my heart, yet I cannot deny it, and, I can't help but love him with the same intensity as I did when we were together. He is mine, and I will not, can not let anyone else have him.

Still at his side my gaze returns to his face where I watch as his tears stream from those clear eyes I love so much.  I can no longer resist.

I reach out to him, shadowy fingers gently skimming the soft skin of a cheek.

He shivers at my touch, breath catching,

" Mione?"

_I am here_

I know she is near from the rapid beating of my heart. Yet, at the same time, I realize that this can't be true. 

I cry, my tears sliding down my cheeks to fall onto the pillowcase. I don't care if boys aren't supposed to cry, there is no-one here to see. Yet, I can't help but feel that I am not alone. It's as if at any moment an invisibility cloak would fly to the floor, and in its place she'd be there, her body whole as she looked up at me.

I miss her, and I can't help but long to see her smile, but even more, I long to feel her warm skin against mine.

I shiver, but not from the cold as the whisper of a touch trails over my cheek following the path of a tear.

"Mione…" I breathe. It is as if I can feel her there before me, but I don't dare believe it. People have made it clear enough that she will never be there again, and yet I can't believe them, even if I know it's the truth.

I can feel the anger rising, I hate him, that bloody murderer who took her from me. Voldemort, the fucking psychopath killed her.

That's right, with the wave of his fucking wand and the muttering of a curse, he killed not only Hermione, but me as well.

_Come back_

I watch the emotions flicker across his face, the frustration and agony, and somehow I know what he's thinking about. I wish he wouldn't, it just makes everything that much harder, besides, Voldemort is gone, Harry killed him.

I can't stay there watching him any longer, it hurts me too much to see him like this, and yet I have no choice. I asked for this fate, and now… no it's already done.

I move away from him, watching as his hand lightly traces the place where I used to lie sleeping next to him. I can feel my heart shattering within my breast. I shouldn't have chosen this, shouldn't have come here.

But I did, and now, now there is no going back. I promised to always be with him, and now I am. A shadow with wings, I am bound by the invisible threads of my heart.

_I'm coming _


	2. chapter one

Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter one

I get up at eight, forcing my legs to support my weight as I tumble into the bathroom. It's harder and harder to stay focused on the present with so much of me longing to stay in the past, but I don't have a choice. This is just the way things are… 

I let the water run in the bath, my hand under the facet until when the perfect temperature is reached I turn the knob. Carefully I step into the shower, the soothing pound of the water crashes all around me, even as the warm liquid scalds my skin. Try as it might it cannot wash me free of her, instead the memories flood my senses, saturating my skin until I find myself lost in the dreamy haze that has become my life.

Through the pounding of the water I can hear her soft voice as she sings to herself, feel her soap-slicked hands over my back, and in my hair as she washes them, the blessed feel of her warmth next to mine. It's the little things that I miss the most, her shampoo in the holder, stockings dripping on the towel-bar. Her make-up strewn over the counter, and her insistence for it no matter how often I tell her she's beautiful "au natural".

I wait in the bedroom, I... I can't follow him as he bustles about the house. Just being with him hurts enough, but watching him set one place instead of two, it would be more than I could bare.

He and I we had such hopes when we bought this house. This beautiful house, with its little garden, four bedrooms and two and a half baths, we were going to have a family here. I can still hear his voice as we lay entwined beneath the silken sheets, his hands gently tracing circles over my belly as he tells me what he thinks our children will be like,

_"Some of them will have bushy hair" _

_"It'll be red won't it?" _

_"Sure, red haired and bloody brilliant at Quidditch"_

_"Don't swear Ron, and they'll be good at school not Quidditch" _

_"Nah, they'll be great at Quidditch with their uncles, and godparents, they'd have to be daft not to be" _

_"Fine fine…but they'll be good at school to" _

_"With the most brilliant witch ever as their mother… they'd have to be"_

Brilliant, it's always what you called me, but I wouldn't have gotten there without you.

It's like you said_, "I'm better because of you"_

And now, you'll never know just how right you were.

I was a better witch, a better person, a better friend, but most of all…

I had a better life than anything I could have hoped for, and it was all because… because you saw me for me, and loved me…

I was never ashamed to be a "mud blood", or a "know-it all" because one look in your eyes, and all I could see was you telling me I was the most beautiful, amazing thing… A look in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the feel of your hand and I wasn't just Hermione. No, I became something else entirely, I was yours and I still am… __

_'Mione_

I don't know how I manage it, staying in this home where we lived together. I only know that if I leave, something in my heart will smash into a thousand pieces. But I don't have time for this now, Harry and Ginny, they're like clock work and if I don't make my appearance in the kitchen, they'll apparate over. It's nice to know that they care, but sometimes I wish that they'd leave alone with my thoughts of death and you. 

He reappears in the bathroom doorway a short time later and after changing, slowly makes his way down the steps.

I know what is to come now, and I am grateful that they do it. I just wish that they would cease attempting to set him up with other women.

I know how much these occasional dates hurt him; I can see the guilt in his eyes, as he gazes at the women who want so much from my handsome auror. Little do they know that he doesn't desire them at all. He wants none of them, and perhaps I'm selfish to say it, but I'm glad that he can't get over me. I am happy that he and I are bound like this, through the pain of separation and the joy of our memories of our life together. Our unwillingness to let go is what keeps me here, and despite the misery of it all… I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Good morning Ron" Ginny's familiar too-bright voice greets me the moment I set foot in the kitchen.

I nod in reply. I don't feel much like speaking right now, but I know if I say nothing she will worry.

"Did you sleep well?" she tries again

I don't answer immediately, as I gather myself some breakfast and a hot mug of coffee as I plop down into a chair at the table.

"Yea, I slept good, real good"

"That's great!" she gushes and I answer before she can ask

"I dreamt of her again" 

I know I should spare myself this pain, but I can't help it. The sound of Ginny's voice draws me from my hiding place in the living room, and into the bright homey kitchen.

I don't consciously do it, but I find myself seated in my old chair, listening as Ron and Ginny talk.

Ginny's voice is mournful as she listens to Ron, and I … I am all but crying at the wistful expression on his handsome face, yet I cannot turn away, instead listening to the way his voice becomes momentarily vibrant, as he speaks of his dreams.

I find it difficult to swallow past the lump in my throat, and wish that some how I could show him that I was here.

He waits until his sister vanishes before he lets the tears fall. This is my Ron, the private side that I see before me. He never did weep in public, his face a tortured mask at my funeral as silent tears slid from his eyes, but this, this time like the others he was felled by his grief.

I watched him from where I sat for a moment, planning to turn away, planning to leave him alone and to go where I belonged. Yet my shadowed limbs did not obey, instead turning me towards him, pulling my closer until I had blanketed him in my embrace, not knowing if he would feel my presence.

The action, more for me than anything else, as my body did what my mind dared not.

I wait until Ginny's head disappears before giving in to my emotions.

The tears fall in silence as I quickly clean up the kitchen and find my cloak, but before I can put it on it slides from my fingers to the floor. I follow, knees buckling as a landslide of grief bowls me over. 

I promised her I wouldn't give up, swore I'd live for the both of us.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up, it's so painful trying to move on, but I must. I must stand and head out the door. I have to dry the tears, and pull the cold iron walls back into place. I mustn't let them know how deeply I hurt. I have to keep it hidden, this side of me, this side that is only for her.

It is then that I feel it. The chilly sensation of knowing that there is someone else in the room, but before I can turn I felt the faint sensations of arms enveloping me from behind, even as a feather light kiss is planted on my collar bone.

This time I know it is no dream, this time I know…

"Hermione?" 

 I'm scared.

He has called me, and I know that he has realized I am here. How, I have no idea, but maybe… maybe he really can feel me.

I have to try and communicate with him. To tell him that I am there, by his side and maybe, just maybe that there is hope for us, and for others whom have had loved ones struck by this body-soul separating curse.

Gathering my courage I life a vapour finger, and upon the calloused softness of his palm I write,

"I am here"

well, now I'm actually heading somewhere laughs

let me know if it's ok, or if I'm going prattling on too much or something


	3. chapter two

Thanks to all of you who read and reviewed. Sorry for being a slow-poke.

Chapter Two

An airy touch upon my palm answered my call, so faint at first that I thought it was a figment of my over stressed mind. Yet, I believed in it, and slowly that feather-light touch became more solid until I knew for sure that I was not imagining things.

She was there, still beside me like she had promised, and it hurt more than anything ever could.

For what could be worse than knowing that what you long for is just out of reach?

A pop pulled me from my thoughts, and I didn't need to turn to know that it was Harry who had just apporated in.

"Come on Ron" he said, his voice soft "we have a meeting in a few minutes"

I nodded my understanding, as I stood with my cloak in one hand.

"Ready?" Harry asked as I moved to stand beside him, eyes glancing all around as I wondered where she could be.

"Yea" I remarked a light smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I felt her phantom touch ghost across my cheek.

* * *

He can feel me! My heart beats wildly with the excitement of this knowledge. I have managed to reach him across thebarrier of death, and now he knows that I am without a doubt at his side.

* * *

I cannot take my mind off this morning's events even though I know I should be paying more attention to the report I'm reading, but I can't. She is there, so very close, and if I can feel her, I can't help but wonder if I'll be able to see her again, to speak with her.

I hope so, I hope so feverently so because as wonderful as feeling her touch is, I can't help but want more. I want her back in the flesh, like in my dreams, where I open the door to suddenly find her smiling at me.

* * *

He comes home at the same time he does every night, half-past-six, sometimes a little early, and sometimes a little late but always right around there.

I watch as he enters, flinging his cloak on the stand before turning, his eyes clearly hunting the room with such an expression of hope, as if he expects to see me.

I laugh to myself as I make my way towards him just as he says,

"'mione are you here?"

I gently touch his arm in response, and wonder at his silly-ness. Where else would I be?

"ah good" he states his hand moving to slid over where my fingertips touched him, before he flops down in a chair with a sigh.

I can tell just by his expression that he is thinking, most likely of what I am thinking.

It is frustrating you know, not being able to do any research, but sadly, my grasp on the real world seems limited to him, for everything else, my fingers just slide straight through.

I wait, as he runs his long fingers through his hair, before abruptly standing, eyes scanning the room again before he announces

"I've got to find a way"

I storm out of the kitchen and into the drawing room as Hermione insisted on calling it. Privately I thought it was more like a small library, with its walls lined with shelves of spell books. I hadn't been in this room for quite some time, it reminded me too much of her, but now I moved decisively pulling down any book I thought might have something that could help me reverse the Avada Kedavra curse.

* * *

I watch as he rushes into the library, pulling book seemingly at random from the shelves, and I immediately know what it is that he is trying to do.

I can see it in the desperate way he pulls open a particularly fat book on curses, eyes almost fevered as they scan the index looking for anything that may be of some help, and I find myself moving in closer as he violently discards book after book I begin to loose hope, my hand running over his slumped shoulders

_It is ok_

* * *

I find nothing, not a single thing in any of the books, except for a brief paragraph that suspects how the curse was made.

It's futile; I should have known it would be.

If there was a way to fix the curse wouldn't it already, be in use?

I watch as he sits deep in thought, from my perch on a large comfortable chair.

He looks gorgeous in the lamplight, hair shining, and expression serious.

I have missed that expression.

Eventually he goes to sleep, and I follow. Body in the place where I had lain countless times before. I had missed this, falling asleep to the soothing sound of his breathing, and the warmth radiating from his body to mine.

* * *

I couldn't come up with anything, nothing whatsoever.

I was useless, hopeless, unable to do a thing, and so being tired I slipped into bed.

Shifting as I had many a time before in response to her weight, arms moving automatically to bring her closer.

I wanted to stay that way for eternity, with her warmth in my arms, and sweet fragrance all around me.

This was a dream, I knew it had to be, but as a felt her adjust against me I decided it was one that I never wanted to wake from.

* * *

I awoke the next morning to find myself pressed up against Ron's side. My head resting on his chest, ear listening to the steady beating of his heart. I smiled, as I had in the past, gently shifting so that I could watch him sleep. I sighed as my love for him swelled, tears pricking at my eyes. It was not until I attempted to lift a hand to wipe them that I noticed the change. Our fingers, they were firmly entwined, and his palm… it was warm, strong, it was real in my grasp instead of the scorching heat it had been against my cold flesh, his hand was now pleasantly warm. It felt as it had before…

I bolted up, releasing his hand in the process as my erratic movements rocked the bed as I struggled to free myself from the blankets.

It wasn't until I felt his finger, warm and strong against my back that I stilled, mind reeling from his touch,

"What is happening to me?"

* * *

I was dreaming that I was waking up, that was the only solution I could think of when I opened my eyes, only to find myself gazing up at Hermione wriggling and struggling as she tried to escape the tangled blankets.

I watched her for a bit, the frantic way her hands clawed at the covers, as her legs moved. It was her kicking me that I believe woke me up, but I didn't care. I knew that when I woke for real she wouldn't be there. She would be lost to me again, that crazy sensation and that would be all.

I whispered her name in an attempt to sooth her, and when she didn't reply I reached up to gently run my fingers down her back, a gesture I knew would capture her attention as it had so many times before.

Her response wasn't one I had predicted, it wasn't one that I would have ever expected. For as she turned to face me, warm hazel eyes looking completely lost I knew that this was no dream even before her words reached my ears.

"What is happening to me" they rang around in my mind.

She was here, she… I could see her, hear her. She could feel me… I could feel her.

It was fantastic… liberating,

"Bloody hell 'mione, it's like you're alive again" I blurted out,

Her eyes met mine and all we could do was stare.

* * *

sooo, how are people finding it?

it it allright, too confusing, wierd...

please review!

galene


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